


Reeling Him In

by Devereauxs_Disease



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: #ItsStillBeautiful, Crack, Fluff, Hannibal thinks they're having lunch, ItsStillBeautiful, M/M, Romantic misunderstandings, Smut, Will thinks they're dating, it's still beautiful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-10
Updated: 2016-08-10
Packaged: 2018-08-08 00:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7735567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devereauxs_Disease/pseuds/Devereauxs_Disease
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will wonders why Hannibal hasn’t kissed him, even though they’ve been dating for months. Hannibal would like to know what Will is talking about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reeling Him In

         Will had a fisherman’s patience. He could spend hours watching his lure lilt in the current, waiting for it to entice the right bite. There was something soothing about waiting out an opponent, knowing what would draw your fish, and how to get them to bite.

         The same patience and knowledge had paid off with Molly. A single mom who wasn’t quite ready to put herself out there, but determined to try, Molly was an elusive catch from the beginning. The perfect challenge after Will’s last disastrous attempt to lure. It would take time and concentration to catch her, two things Will could afford to squander lest he think of his last catch, trapped in a tank somewhere in Baltimore.

         He waited her out date after date, offering her shy smiles and friendly hugs. It had taken three weeks for sweet tentative Molly to snap at the lure, tangling her hands into his hair and pressing him back against the seat of his SUV. She had snatched small kisses from him for a half hour as the babysitter and Walter spied from the living room window. It had only taken another week of keeping his hands to himself before Will felt Molly take the bait again, hand clasping around his and dragging him down to her mattress.

         Will had always been able to out-wait his prey, to calmly allow it to venture closer, investigate, and slip itself onto the hook. But now, as Hannibal smiled at Will over a cappuccino and watched Buenos Aires pass by, Will could admit to himself that he was feeling pretty fucking impatient. By Will’s count this was their eighth month together and their 20th official date, and so far Hannibal was practically a nun. 

         Sure a possessive hand would graze his back when they walked through a crowd, Will’s coat was always lifted off his shoulders when they entered a building, and chairs would be pulled out before Will could even reach the table. Still, Will had assumed this type of courtly romance would end once their wounds healed, once their days weren’t filled with rubbing liniment on scars and flexing exercises. It had been months and the only thing Will was rubbing cream on anymore was his aching dick, while thinking about Hannibal’s lips. 

         Will decided to change his lure, perhaps Hannibal was allowing Will to set the pace. At this rate, they’d wait each other out until they were in the grave. Will slid his hand across the table to Hannibal, turning it over and slipping it under the doctor’s hand – palm to palm. Hannibal looked up again, a smiled briefly and drew his hand away after a friendly squeeze.

         “You’re ready to go?”

         Bingo.

         “Yeah, I am.” Will met Hannibal’s eyes with a look that was pure sex.

         Hannibal’s smile wavered, he stood and looked back at Will, confusion on his face. They slowly retraced the meandering back alley path to their street. Will smiled, mentally cataloging all the lonely stretches of road and secluded patches of alleyway where no one would see two bodies pressing together.

         They turned a corner to a particularly secluded stretch of pavement, giving Will the chance to strike. He grabbed Hannibal and shoved him against a wall, darting forward to catch his lips. Will’s nose bumped the stucco of the wall and he realized blearily that Hannibal had managed to whirl them around and now stood in front of Will, scanning their surroundings.

         “Will, I don’t see anyone.” Tension corded the muscles in Hannibal’s shoulders.

         “What?”

         “You pushed me out of the way, I assumed…” Hannibal trailed off, turning to look at Will. He had never seen the doctor look so flummoxed, it would have been cute if Will wasn’t currently making out with the sharp edge of a dirty building.

         “No one is following us, Hannibal.” Will rolled his eyes. “I just wanted a kiss.”

         Hannibal blinked at him, the lines of confusion deepened in his brow. Will sighed, turning to lean against the building. His nose felt raw, he must have scraped it.

         “Jesus, I know you like the drama of a long romance, but we’ve been dating for months, you can’t blame a guy for trying.”

         “Dating?” Hannibal’s voice sounded odd, high and tight in his throat. “I’m sorry, I don’t think I understand.”

         It was Will’s turn to blink.

         “What the fuck would you call this, Hannibal?”

         “Lunch?”

         Will shoved off the wall, closing in on the doctor, face flushing.        

         "You always pay for things!“

         "You don’t have any money,” Hannibal sounded incredulous. “I have eight hidden accounts.”

         "You make my favorite foods.“ Will felt his head reeling. He was suddenly back in Baltimore, wild and unsure of reality.

         "I thought we should avoid a repeat of the Great Aspic Incident from April.” Color was coming to Hannibal’s cheeks, but Will couldn’t be sure if it was from embarrassment or annoyance.

         "You hold doors open for me.“ He was getting desperate.

         "I just held the door open for that group of American tourists this afternoon, am I dating them as well?” Hannibal turned and marched toward home, leaving Will glaring.

         Hannibal would not fucking do this again. Will was not crazy. He knew the time, he knew where he was, and he damn well knew Hannibal Lecter was in love with him. He ran after Hannibal, yanking on his arm to pull him close.

         “You’ve never been oblivious, Hannibal. It’s an ill-fitting suit on you.” Will tightened his grip. “What about all the eye-fucking during our meals? You didn’t notice that at all?”

         "If you’re referring to your recent habit of glaring at me while you chew, I’m happy to have an explanation for it.“ Hannibal released himself from Will’s grip with a savage pull, leaving Will clutching at air. Hannibal continued his resolute journey home, straight backed and without a glance to see if Will was following.

         “You love me.” It was a certainty. Will would do them both the favor of not phrasing it like a question.

         Hannibal stopped, but did not turn.

         “I loved you when you were but a possibility of the man you are today. I loved you when you hid in that insipid Norman Rockwell family. I loved you when the only embrace I could hope for left us rushing toward the Atlantic.” Hannibal lowered his head and began to walk again. “I love you enough to know that if you wanted to go on a date with me, you would have asked.”

         “I didn’t have to ask! You are always asking for me!” Hannibal didn’t acknowledge Will. “I love you enough to know you’re acting like an ass.”

         “How fortunate for us both, that we know each other so well.” Hannibal turned the corner.

         Will stayed a few feet behind Hannibal, embarrassment burning in his chest. Maybe he should have asked Hannibal out? But Hannibal was always more comfortable with the lead. Maybe romantic love wasn’t even what Hannibal wanted? Could Will live with that?

         The second Hannibal opened the door, Will brushed past him and retreated to his room, trying to look like he wasn’t fleeing. He didn’t cry, just locked the door, rooted around in the bottom of his closet for the box of junk food Hannibal pretended not to know about. 

         He had enough chips and hohos to keep him in this room for a least a few days, thank god. After that, maybe Hannibal would have forgotten the whole day ever happened. Or, more likely, would cook a consolation dinner for Will filled with rich foods as a way to soothe his wounded pride. Either way, Will was staying put for the foreseeable future.

         While Will was content to crunch trans fats and refuse to shower, Hannibal was busy. Will could hear pots clanging and purposeful footsteps. Will was curious about the noise, but contented himself with warm soda and a snickers. Everything outside his room could go fuck itself.

         After two days, Hannibal left the house and Will was tempted to go downstairs to investigate, but he couldn’t be sure that leaving wasn’t a ploy to lure Will out of his room. So Will stayed, and snacked, and ran through every interaction he and Hannibal had ever had. It all seemed so fucking clear. It seemed so obvious. Maybe Hannibal just wasn’t a sexual person? Maybe he just wanted to kill and talk poetry. Will sighed, there were worse lives he could imagine. 

         A knock made Will jump, spilling chips all over his bed.

         “Will, dinner is ready,” Hannibal’s voice sounded tight through the door. “Will you join me?”

         The darkness in his stale room was comforting, he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with light, fresh air, or Hannibal Lecter right now. He moved to the door, wanting to be closer, wanting to make sure the damn thing was locked.

         “Will, please.”

         Will bit his lip, the tug in his chest was back. He let his forehead thump on the door.

         “I’ll be down in 15 minutes, let me jump in the shower.”

         “Thank you, Will.”

         Hot water sluiced over Will, he used the fancy oils Hannibal had left in his bathroom, and grumbled when he noticed they did leave his skin softer and smelling faintly of spice and sandalwood. Did Hannibal have to be right about everything?

         Toweling his hair off and slipping into a pair of grey slacks, Will picked a neat black polo shirt from his closet. He might as well look nice for Hannibal’s little “I’m sorry I humiliated you” dinner. Hair still wild, Will ran a hand through it, brushing off the excess droplets of water, and left the room.

         When Will entered the dining room, his eyes went wide. The table was overflowing with food and flowers. Candles lined the room, casting the whole spread in a soft dancing yellow glow. Hannibal stood before him in a crimson tuxedo jacket with subtle paisley detailing, black slacks, and an ascot tucked into his crisp white shirt. Will felt his heartrate increase, he started looking around wildly. 

         “Are we having a party?”

         Will felt a warm pressure in his hand, Hannibal was threading their fingers together and pulling Will to the far end of the room. He stopped in front of a platter with a whole fish on it.

         “On our first date, I would hope to make you feel at ease, to show you that I am aware of your unique tastes. Therefore, I present wood roasted bass, with a lemon beurre blanc, roasted peppers and potatoes, and beer from a local microbrewery. Please note, that the centerpiece is a simple vase of wildflowers and the meal is served on our non-fancy-ass china.” 

         Will knew his mouth was open. He also knew his heart was in his throat. He wondered if Hannibal could see it beating violently as he stared at the doctor with a gaping mouth. Hannibal merely smiled and gestured to the next dish.

         “Our second date would no doubt have been a play or opera,” Hannibal paused mouth twisting into a rueful expression. “Or perhaps a movie, if you insisted. Dinner would probably be at one of the local restaurants, I think Aramburu, perhaps La Bourgogne. But I’m afraid I would be loathe to leave your side after the show, so I would have prepared a post-performance treat, to entice you into my company for a few more hours. Brandied cherry tart with fresh whipped cream and glasses of port.”

         “Hannibal-”

         “On our third date, I would prepare something visceral, beef carpaccio and a deep, old burgundy, followed by veal in a balsamic reduction. The centerpiece a collection of red peonies.” Hannibal’s free hand ghosted across Will’s lips. “I admit this dish was created mostly for the opportunity to taste blood on your lips.”

         “You-” Will’s voice was sandpaper in his throat. “You think I’d kiss you on the third date.”

         “I could never entirely predict you, Will.” Hannibal’s hand was in Will’s hair, lifting a few loose curls from his brow. “I have learned to merely hope.”

         Will leaned into Hannibal’s hand, his breathing had gone deep as his eyes fixed on Hannibal’s mouth.

         “No dessert? Or were you planning on us feasting on each other?”

         Hannibal smiled and pulled Will around the corner.

         “Our fourth date, risotto di funghi con tartufi bianchi served on our best china and accompanied by glasses of Bâtard-Montrachet. For dessert, sanguinaccio. Our centerpiece a blanched skull with orchids.”

         “This would be the date where you correct my simple tastes with your extraordinary ones?”

         Hannibal’s mouth quirked, his eyes dancing.

         “I merely seek to broaden your palate.”

         “Oh, you have, doctor.”

         Will wrinkled his nose at the next dish, which was covered and resting on a silver tray.

         Hannibal revealed it with a flourish.

         “Our fifth date, a simple protein scramble with sausage and fennel, accompanied by black coffee with just a splash of cream and brown sugar.”

         Will felt his grin go wide, he squeezed Hannibal’s hand and moved to pick up the single red rose laying on the tray.

         “Served in bed, I hope.” He ran the rose across Hannibal’s cheek and felt his heart leap when the doctor’s eyes fluttered closed at the touch.

         “Indeed, as you will see, the next four meals are all portable.”

         Will let Hannibal explain the rest of the feast, leading him from elaborate dish to elaborate dish. Centerpieces of flowers and fruit perfumed the air as Hannibal explained each culinary creation and exactly what they signified. Strawberries to feed each other at midnight, supple duck breast to dine on at sunset on the porch, smoked pork medallions that would be eaten over the kitchen island after an opera. Will could see their life spread before them on their table, and he wanted to consume it all. He took the bait.

         “So, this would be our 23rd date, by your count?”

         “If you give me another day, I believe I could prepare enough food and arrange enough flowers to get us to our 47th,” Hannibal offered with a smile.

         Will scrunched his mouth and waved a hand dismissively.

         “Nah, the 23rd date is one of my favorites.”

         “May I ask the significance of our 23rd date?” Hannibal lofted an eyebrow, but his mouth still held a subtle curve of amusement.

         “It’s the date where I fuck you on our dining room table.” Will shoved Hannibal backwards, letting the cannibal land with one hand in the sanguinaccio and sprawled across a platter of spareribs. Doubt flared in Will as Hannibal froze, a bewildered centerpiece among the broken platters and overturned glasses. He wasn’t prepared when Hannibal lunged forward, smearing the chocolate across Will’s lips before tangling his hand in the empath’s curls and pulling him into a kiss.

         Distantly, Will heard the sound of shattering crystal as Hannibal swept the rest of the place settings from the table. The doctor pulled him down on the table, Will smiled sucking a kiss just under Hannibal’s jaw. Buttons and buckles were covered in savory reductions, too slick under fumbling fingers.

         Will felt Hannibal press something into his palm - a silver steak knife, serrated teeth biting into his palm. He smiled, wild and feral as he slipped the blade into the gap between Hannibal’s buttons.

         “Don’t move, Dr. Lecter,” Will whispered as the fabric tore. “I’ve always been a messy eater.” 

         Hannibal moaned, pressing into the knife as he sought Will’s mouth. Will felt the moment the knife snagged on Hannibal’s skin, Hannibal growled, pushing into the teeth of the blade. Will watched, pressing his hips into Hannibal’s, grinding their cocks together as blood from the small wound welled on the doctor’s chest. He lowered his head to the small stream, pressing his lips into the blood before raising his head and offering Hannibal his mouth. 

         Teeth and tongue enveloped Will as Hannibal keened into the kiss. Strong hands wrestled the knife from Will’s grasp and with two efficient cuts, the polo fell from Will’s shoulders. Will wound his arms around Hannibal, refusing to break their kiss as he shoved at the scraps of cloth left on the doctor’s torso. Hannibal’s blood continued to trickle between them and Will pressed into the wet heat as he scrabbled for Hannibal’s belt. Hannibal was content to scratch his nails from the globes of Will’s ass to the nape of his neck, driving the empath insane with the friction from his frantically rolling hips.

         “Please tell me I don’t have to use crème fraiche for lube,” Will panted into Hannibal’s ear, he felt the doctor shudder beneath him and bit the delicate shell for good measure.

         Hannibal wiggled, moving until he could finally access the pocket of his opened pants. He produced a tube of lube and offered it to Will.

         “You presumptuous fuck,” Will laughed.

         “One could argue it was rather presumptuous to believe I was courting you every time we shared a meal.” Hannibal huffed, with no rancor behind his words.

         “You’ve been courting me since Crawford’s office.” Will bit softly behind Hannibal’s ear, pressing his smile into the delicate flesh.

         “Your thoughts were not tasty then, how do you find them now?”

         Will licked Hannibal’s throat, his tongue picking up on splatters of savory sauces, cream, chocolate and wine.

         “Delicious.” Will dipped his head to lap at the blood and food smeared between them, kissing Hannibal deeply with a tongue that tasted of copper and beurre blanc. “Turn over.”

         Will shoved out of his pants, desperate to be naked and not particularly caring about what he looked like. Hannibal, of fucking course, shed his trousers and shoes in one elegant movement before flipping over to lay himself bare on their table. Will couldn’t resist. He reached for the vase of overturned peonies and placed a few blooms on Hannibal’s back, obscuring the Verger brand with blood red petals. Leaning forward, Will nipped at Hannibal’s shoulder.

         “This is my design.” Will kissed down Hannibal’s back, licking and nipping as he traveled. When he reached Hannibal’s ass he bit into the firm flesh he found. He wanted to bruise, to mark this catch as _his_. 

         “If I had known this would be your reaction, I would have reevaluated my table decorations years ago.” Hannibal sound breathy as Will grabbed his hips and pulled him toward the edge of the table, bending Hannibal in half over the sturdy varnished maple.

         “Now that you know, I’m going to expect dinner to be served this way from now on.” Will let his hands land firm on Hannibal’s ass, kneading and spreading him as he watched the stoic man before him writhe. One more nip to feel Hannibal jump beneath his palms and Will moved to fasten his mouth over Hannibal’s hole.

         There was no pressure at first, just the brush of his lips over the wrinkled flesh. Hannibal remained silent but he couldn’t control the tremors that ran through him. Will stroked once with his tongue, pressing hard. Hannibal made a small choking noise and the muscles in his back tensed.

         Will moved away from Hannibal, watching in amusement as the doctor’s hips pressed backwards, seeking him.

         “You know, it may not be polite, but I’m going to need to hear a little noise so I know how I’m doing, here.” The glare Hannibal shot over his shoulder was murderous, but Will had long lost any fear for this particular monster. Scratching his nails across the small of Hannibal’s back and watching him abandon his scowl to arch into the touch, Will smiled wolfishly. “Indulge me.”

         Hannibal pressed his forehead into the table and moaned softly. Will ran his tongue from Hannibal’s balls to the top of his ass, pressing firmly as he traversed the sensitive hole. This time, Hannibal made a broken noise, a pathetic pleading undignified keen that shot straight to Will’s cock. He knew he’d spend the rest of his life chasing that noise from Hannibal’s throat. 

         Working his thumbs over Hannibal’s wrinkled flesh, Will thrust his tongue into Hannibal, his cock jerking when he heard a quiet whimper. He pressed further, tonguing Hannibal and delighting in the uncontrolled way the doctor bucked under his hands.

         “Will,” it was a gasp. Hannibal’s pleading tone made Will moan, his cock dripping onto his thigh. “Will!”

         Will launched himself up, knees creaking painfully as he laid himself over Hannibal’s back, brushing the flowers from his love.

         “You wanted to see me?” He whispered into Hannibal’s ear. He rubbed his leaking cock into Hannibal’s ass just to watch the doctor grind his forehead into the table.

         “I-” Hannibal was panting, accent thick. Will wondered if he was having trouble remembering his English. “I only wish to reach completion with you inside me.”

         Will pressed a grin into Hannibal’s shoulder. Of course his fussy love wouldn’t just say _I’m about to blow my load_. Will dropped a soft kiss onto the Verger brand and groped for the lube. Will pressed a slick finger into Hannibal, watching the play of muscles on Hannibal’s back as he stretched into a deeper arch. Will ran his free hand up Hannibal’s back, threading his fingers into the fine hair on Hannibal’s head and yanking the doctor back brutally.

         “You will come when I tell you to come, and not a second before.” Will’s voice was low and steady in Hannibal’s ear. A second slick finger pushed into Hannibal, causing his mouth to drop open as his tongue pressed into his teeth. “Understand?”

         “Will, please.” Hannibal’s breathing was erratic.

         Will scissored his fingers, pressing down to find the prostate. Hannibal jerked, all the muscles on his back tensing. Will tightened his grip in Hannibal’s hair.

         “Hannibal, you waited five years, what’s a few more minutes?” He pulled out of Hannibal and released his hair. Hannibal fell to the table, breath ragged. Will poured some lube onto his hands and slicked his cock. He was glad Hannibal couldn’t see his hands shake.

         When he pressed into Hannibal, all the air left his lungs. The heat of Hannibal enveloped him, his body boiled as he thrust, too hot, but craving the burn. Why the fuck had they waited months, _months_ to do this? Why had he waited so many years? Fuck, he should have dropped to his knees that first day in Jack’s office.

         Hannibal stretched his arms out and gripped the sides of the table. The newfound leverage allowed him to rock back powerfully on Will’s cock, making the empath groan. Throwing his head back and digging his fingers into Hannibal’s hips, Will snarled and snapped his hips. Hannibal was mewling now, droplets of sweat cutting clean paths on his food stained back. Will piked forward, wrapping his slick hand around Hannibal’s cock. The extra pressure made Hannibal’s hips stutter as he whined into the table. 

         “Spill,” Will commanded. He was so fucking close, his vision was whiting around the edges. Hannibal convulsed beneath him, ass milking Will’s cock as he spurted on their fancy formal dining table. Hannibal’s orgasm was enough to pull Will over the edge and he came with a cry, falling onto Hannibal’s back as his body shuddered. 

         Will climbed onto the table to lay next to Hannibal, his heart hammering in his ears. Hannibal’s face was buried in a cluster of wildflowers, each pant fluttering the petals softly. Wrapping an arm under Hannibal’s chest Will tugged until the doctor rolled into the cradle of his arm, head resting on Will’s shoulder. Wilted pieces of lilac stuck to Hannibal’s bangs and forehead like confetti. With soft fingers, Will brushed the blooms from Hannibal’s face. Hannibal allowed his eyes to close, content to let Will stroke his hair as the sweat cooled their bodies.

         Will noticed a perfect lush strawberry to the right of Hannibal’s head, laying among pieces of shattered crystal. He picked it up, and dipped it into a small bowl of caramel sauce and pressed it to Hannibal’s lips.  

         Hannibal took a bite, eyes still dreamy, lips curved in bliss. Will pecked at his love’s lips before dipping the strawberry in the caramel again and taking a bite.

         Will spit half-masticated berry across Hannibal’s chest. When he looked down in horror, he could see the doctor smiling at him.

         “What the fuck did I just dip that strawberry in?”

         “I believe that was the onion gravy, though it tastes as if some of the fish sauce mixed with it during our table decorating.”

         “And you swallowed it?” Will looked at Hannibal with furrowed brows. “Why the fuck did you eat that?”

         “Because you offered it to me.”

         Will slapped his hand on Hannibal’s chest, getting a palm full of strawberry goo for his trouble.

         “If my dumb ass hands you something gross to eat, it’s not romantic to choke it down, you fucking weirdo.”

         “Really?” Hannibal grinned. “Had I only known that when you were pressing a Big Mac to my lips a year ago.”

         Will let himself drop dramatically to the table, sprawling next to Hannibal.

         “Christ, are we still on that?” He couldn’t fight the smile in his voice. “I told you, if I had seen any drive-thru charcuteries in Juarez I would have stopped there. Mickey D’s was all I had to work with.”

         “I would have preferred Burger King.”

         Will couldn’t stop the laughter, he pressed his face into Hannibal’s hair. He could feel Hannibal’s shoulders starting to shake, a breathy laugh landing on Will’s bare chest.

          “I love you,” Will said into Hannibal’s sticky bangs. “And I’m glad I finally caught you.”

         “Caught me,” Hannibal scoffed. “I’ve been luring you since you glared at me over your glasses in Jack Crawford’s office. You’ll have to concede that I’m the better fisherman, with the better catch.”

         “So I’m your great white whale, huh? What are you going to do now? Mount me on the wall?” Will squeezed his eyes shut the moment the words left his mouth. He could hear the wet stretch of Hannibal’s smile.

         “My darling boy, I will happily mount you on every surface we can find.”

         Will flailed toward a white amorphous mound, mashed potatoes perhaps, and smacked a handful into Hannibal’s face. The resulting food fight lasted long after the candles had burned out.


End file.
